The History of Isaac and Mia
by Pyro1588
Summary: A retelling of George MacDonald's classic story, The History of Photogen and Nycteris. Isaac and Mia are raised in a castle by the same witch, never being told of each others' existence.
1. I: Menardi

The History of Isaac and Mia 

A/N: This is a retelling of George MacDonald's classic, "The History of Photogen and Nycteris," centering around Golden Sun's Isaac and Mia. I am trying my best not to just plug different names in; I'm also trying to actually retell the story in my own words. That doesn't mean that I won't borrow from the original; it just means that I'm trying to actually be creative. Anyway, I'll talk more later, because you're probably bored and waiting.

I: Menardi

There was once a witch named Menardi. She wanted to know everything there was to know. But the more a witch knows, the harder she knocks her head against the wall when it comes down to it.  
She was descended from the people of Garoh, and she had a wolf inside of her. She cared for nothing in itself-only for knowing it. She wasn't naturally cruel, but the wolf inside her had made her cruel.  
She was quite a beautiful witch. She was tall and graceful, with very light-blue skin, long fiery-red hair, and eyes as black as night that had a red fire burning in them.  
She was straight and very strong, but once in awhile she would double over and fall on the floor. She would lie there shuddering for a minute, almost as if the wolf had gotten out of her mind and onto her back.

A/N: Yep, that's the first chapter, and yeah, it's short. Don't blame me! Talk to MacDonald!  
Anyway, I'm sure that there are those who are going to accuse me of sacrilege and those who are going to say this sounds like plagiarism. Let me address this: I'm not writing this for Golden Sun's sake. I'm writing this because the original is such a classic. And as I said before, I'm not just plugging in different names; I'm actually retelling it.  
Anyway, if you like it, please review and let me know! I'm always looking for feedback and I think I'm going to start responding to questions again.  
Thanks for reading!

Pyro1588  
Planet Weyard

07.09.05  
4:46 PM  
352 words


	2. II: Dora

The History of Isaac and Mia

A/N: Here ya go! Next chapter.  
GoldenSunGeek: Yeah, it's a great kids story. I grew up reading MacDonald's stories. Great stuff.

II: Dora

This witch got two ladies to visit her. One of them belonged to a distant court, and her husband had sent her on a long and difficult embassy. The other was a poor, young widow whose husband had died recently. Shortly after he had passed on, she went blind. Menardi lodged them in different parts of the castle and they never knew of each other's existence.

The castle sat on the side of a hill that sloped gently down into a narrow valley that had a little river running through it, with a pebbly channel and a continual song. The garden reached down to the riverbank and was enclosed by high walls that stretched down to the river and stopped on the other side. The garden was like a small pocket in the side of the castle where the walls had been pushed back. The walls each had a double set of battlements with a small walkway between them.

On the top level of the castle, Lady Dora occupied a large set of spacious rooms. Her room had several oriel windows that extended out from the wall and had a wonderful view both up and down the river. Across from the castle was the other side of the valley. It wasn't very high, but it was steep. One could even see snow-capped mountain peaks in the distance.

Dora seldom left these rooms, but their airy spaces, the brilliant landscape and sky, beautiful paintings, large collections of books, musical instruments, curiosities, knick-knacks and the company of Menardi, who could be charming when she desired, precluded all dullness and boredom. She had venison and grouse to eat, milk and pale sparkling wine to drink.

She had golden hair that almost looked bright red and that waved and rippled in the wind. Her skin was fair and beautiful, not like Menardi's, and her eyes were as blue as the bluest sky you've ever seen. Her features were delicate but strong, her mouth large and curved, and always filled with smiles.

A/N: Well, there's another chapter. PLEASEpleaseplease take a few seconds to review and let me know that you're reading it. 35 hits and one review. Thanks to GoldenSunGeek for being the first ) Anyway, thanks for reading.

Pyro1588  
Planet Weyard

07.13.05  
4:53 PM  
411 words 


	3. III: Vesper

The History of Isaac and Mia

A/N: Third chapter! Yay!  
GSG: Yead, I'm a review-desperate man. Kinda sad, isn't it?  
Kingdom of Tom: One of them will be introduced in the next chapter.

III: Vesper

Behind the castle, the hill rose abruptly; indeed, the castle actually touched the rock and the northern tower had passages that lead into the mountainside. Deep in the rock were carved many passages and chambers, known only to Menardi and one servant whom she trusted, called Karst.

Some former owner of the castle had constructed these chambers after the tomb of an ancient Egyptian king, and probably with the same design. In the center of one of the chambers, there stood what could only be described as a sarcophagus, but that and other chambers were walled off. The walls and ceilings were carved in low relief, and covered with many curious little paintings.

Here the witch lodged the blind lady, whose name was Vesper. Her eyes were black, with long blue lashes. Her skin had the look of dark silver, but it was the purest color and smoothness. Her hair was dark blue and flowed long and straight; her features were exquisitely formed, and if less beautiful yet all the more lovely from sadness. She always looked weary, as if she wanted to lie down and not rise again.

She did not know that she was lodged in a tomb, but now and again she would wonder why she never touched a window. There were many couches for her to lie on, each covered with the finest and richest silk, as soft as her own face. The carpet was soft and thick, so that she could have cast herself down anywhere. All this befitted a tomb.

The rooms were warm and dry, and cleverly pierced for air, so that it never smelled stale and was always fresh. The only thing lacking was sunlight. There the witch fed her upon milk and wine as dark as carbuncle, and pomegranates, and purple grapes, and birds that dwell in marshy places. And Menardi would play for her mournful tunes, and have wailing violins attend her, and told her sad tales, keeping her always in the state of sweet sorrow.

A/N: Another day, another chapter. I'm glad that people are reading this. I'd be really glad if I got a whole load of reviews P  
Anyway, next chapter will see the introduction of one of the title characters! Yay for consistent progress! Oh yeah, I left the name of the widow the same, mainly because the GS games never mentioned her, even though they should have.

Pyro1588  
Planet Weyard

07.14.05  
3:48 PM  
445 words 


	4. IV: Isaac

The History of Isaac and Mia

A/N: I suppose it's about time to do another of those wonderful disclaimers that everyone loves so much. The only parts of Golden Sun I own are two old, heavily-played carts of GS 1&2. I don't own Golden Sun OR any of George MacDonald's work.  
YellowFairy07001: Don't worry, the chapters will get a little longer later on. Just a little longer...  
Forgotten~Soul: Menardi's hair is a bright yellow-red. Her skin is pretty light, but Proxians have at least a little blue to their skin. And her eyes being black was out of the original story. Thanks for letting me know, though. Also, thanks for the grammatical tips. I'm always trying to improve =)  
GoldenSunGeek: Ack! I checked the reviews, typed up my responses, then uploaded. Right before I hit post, I noticed the count was up one. I went and checked and there was your review so I had to reupload =P  
Anyway, this one is a little longer, and as I said to YF, it'll get longer later on. Also, the website works for me... Send me your emais and I'll try sending you an alternate link since I can't post links here anymore =(

IV: Isaac

Menardi at length had her desire, for witches often get what they want; a splendid baby boy was born to the fair Dora. Just as the sun rose over the horizon, he opened his eyes. Menardi at once carried him off to a distant part of the castle. She convinced his mother that he hadn't even made a noise, but had died the moment he was born. Overcome by grief, Dora left the castle as soon as she could, and Menardi never invited her again.

And now Menardi's task and goal was that the child should never know darkness. She trained him persistently until he never slept during the day and never woke in the night. She always put him to bed just before the sun touched the horizon. She never let him see anything black and even tried to keep dim and dull colors out of his sight. Never, if she could help it, would she let a shadow fall upon him. She guarded shadows as if they were snakes that would hurt him.

All day long he basked in the glorious splendor of the sun, occupying the same large rooms that his mother had. Menardi accustomed him to the sun until he could bear more of it than any dark-blooded African. In the hottest part of every day, she would strip him down to his underclothes and lay him out in the sun so that he would "ripen up like a peach." He rejoiced in it and resisted dressing again. She employed all her knowledge in making his muscles strong and elastic and swiftly responsive-"that his soul," she said laughing, "might sit in every fibre, be all in every part, and awake the moment of call."

His hair was the dark yellow of gold. His eyes were a sparkling blue that grew darker as he grew, until they were as dark as Vesper's, but whenever he was standing in the brightest sight of noon, one could still see the blue in them. He was the happiest and merriest of creatures, always laughing, always loving, for a moment caught up in rage, then laughing afresh. Menardi called him Isaac.

A/N: Well, there's one of your characters. The other will show up in the next chappie. This one was fun to write =)  
And yay! people are reviewing again! Thanks, guys!

Pyro1588  
Planet Weyard

07.15.05  
3:46 PM  
603 words 


	5. V: Mia

The History of Isaac and Mia

Forgotten~Soul: Well, here's a hint: Isaac's name in the original story was Photogen. That should explain some. Also, you'll get a better idea of what's happening in this chapter.  
GoldenSunGeek: Heh, I was just joking. I just thought it a little ironic that you reviewed right before I posted =)

V: Mia

About five or six months after the birth of Isaac, Vesper also gave birth to a child. In the windowless tomb of a blind mother, in the dead of night, under the faint glow of an alabaster lamp, a girl came into the darkness with a wail. And just as she was born for the first time into this world, her mother was born for the second time, passing into a world as unknown to her as this one was to her child-who would have to be born yet again before she could see her mother.

Menardi called her Mia, and she grew very much like her mother, but for two things: Her hair was a bright and vivid blue where her mother's was dark, and her eyes were like those of Lady Dora's. If they grew darker as she grew older, it was only a darker and deeper blue.

Menardi, with the help of Karst, took the greatest possible care with her, raising her up according to her plans. The main thing was that the girl should never see any light except for that which came from her lamp. Because of this, her optic nerves, and indeed her whole seeing apparatus, grew both larger and more sensitive. Her eyes stopped short only of being too large. Under her blue hair and forehead and eyebrows, they looked like two breaks in a cloudy night sky, through which peeped the heaven where no clouds but only stars live.

She was a sadly delicate little creature, and no one in the world except for those two was aware of the existence of this little bat. Menardi taught her to sleep during the day and wake at night. She taught her music, in which she herself was accomplished and proficient, but taught her very little more.

A/N: There. Both main characters. Happy? =P  
This is turning out well. I'm glad that I found something that's short enough to where I can type an entire chapter without screwing up my wrists. Anyway, please review! And if you already have, thanks!

Pyro1588  
Planet Weyard

07.16.05  
6:32 PM  
412 words 


	6. VI: How Isaac Grew

The History of Isaac and Mia

Sam: You are missing out! Do a google search for "George MacDonald" or check out Project Gutenberg. Then go and read "The Princess and the Goblins" and same other MacDonald classics. And yeah, Menardi IS kinda everywhere all at once.  
Forgotten~Soul: Welcome =) And yeah, I threw in another GS character in this chapter.  
YellowFairy07001: Heh, no problem. I'm just happy to get any reviews I can. Also, even though they don't know about each other yet, that's subject to change =)  
GoldenSunGeek: Yay for Mia =) Also, I threw another character in this chapter.

VI: How Isaac Grew

The cleft that Menardi's castle was in wasn't a valley between hills, but rather a split in a plain. At the top of its steep sides, both to the north and the south, was a large tableland, a flat plain that stretched out for many miles. It was covered in rich grass and meadows full of wild flowers. There were trees here and there and occasionally a wood, an outlying colony of a great forest.

These were some of the best hunting grounds in the world. Small and fierce cattle with shaggy manes and humps roamed freely. There were also antelopes, gnus, small roedeer, elk, and many more wild animals that roamed the woods. The table of the castle was mainly supplied from them.

Menardi's chief huntsman was a fine man, and when Isaac began to outgrow the training she could give him, she handed him over to Alex. Alex made up his mind to train Isaac in everything he knew, and worked at it each and every day. He got him pony after pony as he grew, each one a little less manageable and a little more unruly than the last, until he advanced to a horse. Even then, Alex kept advancing him from horse to horse, teaching him to tame even the wildest of equines, until he was as skilled as any horseman that any country could produce.

In similar fashion he trained Isaac to use a bow and arrow, giving him a stronger bow and longer arrows every three months, so that he became a wonderful archer, even on horseback. He was but fourteen when he killed his first bull, causing jubilation among the huntsmen; indeed, throughout the entire castle, for he was everyone's favorite. Every day, almost as soon as the sun was up, he would be out hunting, and would generally remain out the whole day.

Menardi laid but one commandment on Alex: that Isaac should, on no account, be out until sunset, or near enough as to wake in him the desire to see what would happen. Alex was anxiously careful not to break it, for even if a whole herd of bulls were to charge down a hill at him and he had not an arrow left, he would not tremble, but of his mistress he was more afraid. When she would look at him in a certain way, he felt, as he said, like his heart turned to ashes in his chest and what was flowing through his veins wasn't blood, but milk and water.

As Isaac grew older, Alex began to tremble when he thought of her, for it was becoming harder and harder to restrain Isaac. He told his mistress, much to her content, that he was becoming so full of life that he was more like a live thunderbolt than a human being. He didn't know what fear was, but not because he didn't know danger; for he had received a severe laceration down his left arm from the razor-like tusk of a bore and had still managed to sever its spine with a stab of his hunting knife even before Alex could reach him. When he would spur his horse into a herd of bulls carrying nothing but his short sword and bow, or when he would shoot an arrow into a herd and go after it to reclaim it like a stray shot, stabbing the wounded animal before it knew which way to charge, Alex thought with terror what it would be like when he came to know the temptation of the huddle-spot leopards and the knife-clawed lynxes that haunted the forest.

The boy had been so steeped in the sun, and from birth so saturated with its energy, that he looked upon every danger with supreme courage. Therefore, when he was almost sixteen, Alex begged Menardi that she might lay her command on the boy himself and release him from responsibility for the youth. "One might as soon hold a tawny-maned lion as Isaac," he said.

Menardi called the boy in, and in the presence of Alex, laid upon him the command that he should never be out when the rim of the sun touched the horizon, accompanying the warning with vague hints of danger. Isaac listened respectfully, but knowing neither the taste of fear nor the temptation of the night, her words were just sounds to him.

A/N: Wow, it only took two chapters for him to grow up =P  
Still enjoying it? Then please review and let me know. And major thanks to everyone who already has! And WOW! 230+ hits!

Pyro1588  
Planet Weyard

07.18.05  
2:21 PM  
881 words 


	7. VII: How Mia Grew

The History of Isaac and Mia

A/N: Here we go again. I don't own GS any more than I did the last time I did a disclaimer. The story this was based off of is by George MacDonald.  
YellowFairy07001: Yeah, I like Alex enough to where I decided to give him a minor role. He was the only one I could think of that really fit the role. And I'm glad to know that I have people eager to read this =)  
Forgotten~Soul: Gee, how'd ya guess? =P  
GoldenSunGeek: Heh, Monty Python rocks =) And thanks about the website. I have to update it sometime. Heck, this story hasn't even made it on there.  
Sam: Glad ya liked it. And yes, definitely look him up. Definitely.

VII: How Mia Grew

The little education she intended Mia to have, Menardi gave to her by word of mouth. Not wanting her to have enough light to read by, to leave other reasons unmentioned, Menardi never put a book in front of her. Mia, however, saw much better than Menardi imagined, and the so the light she had was more than ample. She gradually coaxed Karst into teaching her the alphabet, and then taught herself to read. Karst would even bring her a children's book now and again.

But her chief pleasure and her greatest joy were in her instrument. She loved the feel of it. Her very fingers would wander over its keys like grazing sheep. She was always playing one piece or another. Some nights, when she was feeling especially happy and creative, she would compose her own songs.

She was not unhappy. She knew nothing of the world except for the tomb in which she lived, and she took pleasure in everything she did. Nevertheless, she wanted something more or different. She did not know what it was, and the nearest she could come to expressing it to herself was that she wanted more room. Menardi and Karst would go beyond the shining glow of the lamp and come again; therefore there surely must be more room somewhere.

She was often left alone, and she would often pour over the colored bas-reliefs on the walls of her room. They were meant to represent various powers of nature under allegorical simmilitudes, and as nothing can be made that does not belong to the general scheme, she could not fail to imagine at least a flicker of relationship between some of them, and thus a shadow of the reality of things found its way into her.

The one thing that moved and inspired her above the rest-the lamp, namely, the lamp that hung from the ceiling in her room. She never saw its flame, but just the slight condensation towards the center of the alabaster globe. And besides the steady and unchanging light itself was the indefiniteness of the globe, and the softness of the light. She felt like her eyes could go into it and its whiteness, and all of this associated with the idea of space and room. She would sit for an hour gazing up at the lamp, and her heart would swell as she gazed. She would find her face wet with tears, and wonder what had hurt her and how it had done it without her knowing. She never looked thus at the lamp except when she was alone.

A/N: Wow, 294 hits and 18 reviews. This is the most popular one I've ever written. And the sad thing is, I'm only retelling =(  
Please cheer me up and review. Please? Thanks.

Pyro1588  
A very outdated Planet Weyard

07.21.05  
8:52 PM  
606 words 


	8. VIII: The Lamp

The History of Isaac and Mia

A/N: Yeah, it's been five days. Things got busy. One of our horses got sick (not sure what from,) I had to start on a history essay, etc. I have a million more excuses, but you probably don't want to hear them, so I'll just get to the story.  
YellowFairy07001: Yeah, this chapter chronicles her escape! Well, not exactly escape, but you'll see what I mean. Also, it's not that Menardi's playing favorites, but more that she's raising them in opposite circumstances. Remember, she's only in this for the knowledge.  
Forgotten~Soul: Yes, I'm happier now. Thanks! =) Anyway, I'm guessing that it's probably some sort of piano or harpsichord that she plays. And she cries because it moves her. Oh yeah, sorry about the big words. They're a holdover from the original. Basically, it means that they sorta represent things in the real world.  
GoldenSunGeek: I haven't seen a whole lot of Monty Python, but I'd definitely go with John Cleese. Ever see "Fawlty Towers?" =)

VIII: The Lamp

Menardi had given orders and assumed they were obeyed, that Karst should stay with Mia all night, or rather, all of Mia's day. But Karst never could get herself to sleep during the day, so she often left Mia alone for half the night or more. Then, it seemed to Mia, the lamp was watching over her.

Because it was never allowed to go out, or at least not when she was awake, Mia, except by shutting her eyes, knew less about darkness than she did about light. She had been bathed in the lamp's soft glow for as long as she could remember. Also, because it was hanging high up from the ceiling and in the center of the room, she knew nothing of shadows. The few that there were fell on the floor or kept like mice against the foot of the walls.

Once, when she was alone in her room, she heard a faint and distant rumbling. She had never before heard a sound that she didn't know the origin of, so this came as another small sign that there was something else out there. As she listened, she felt a faint tremor, then a shaking. Suddenly, the whole room started to shake. The lamp dropped from the ceiling and crashed on the floor. She suddenly felt like both her eyes were shut and her hands were over them. As the shaking began to subside, she concluded that the darkness had caused the shaking and that it had rushed into her room and cast the lamp to the floor. She sat trembling, and the shaking and rumbling gradually subsided, but the light did not return. The darkness had eaten it up!

With her lamp gone, the desire immediately woke in her to get out. She scarcely knew what "out" meant; out of one room and into another, where there wasn't even a door but just a dividing arch, was all that she knew of the world. But suddenly she remembered hearing Karst speak of the lamp "going out." Was this what she had meant? And if the lamp had gone out, then where had it gone? Surely, it must have gone wherever Karst and Menardi went, and it would come again. But she couldn't wait. The desire to go out became irresistible. She must follow her beautiful lamp! She must find it! She must see what it was up to!

She knew that there was a curtain covering a recess in the wall where some of her toys and gymnastic things were kept. It was from behind that curtain that Menardi and Karst appeared, and behind it they vanished. How they came out of solid wall, she hadn't the faintest idea. All the way up to the wall was open space, and beyond it there seemed to be nothing but solid wall. But it was clear that the first and only thing she could do was to try and find her way behind the curtain.

It was so dark that a cat couldn't have caught the largest of mice. Mia could see better than any cat, but now even her great blue eyes were useless. As she crossed the room, she stepped on a piece of the broken lamp. She had never worn shoes or socks, and though the soft alabaster fragment didn't cut her, it still hurt her foot. She did not know what it was, but since it hadn't been there before the darkness, she suspected that it had something to do with the lamp.

She kneeled down and began to search around with her hands. Finding two large pieces, she brought them together and recognized the shape of her lamp. Therewith it flashed upon her that her lamp was dead; that this brokenness was the death she had read about but had failed to understand. What then could Karst have meant when she spoke of the lamp "going out?" There was the lamp-dead, indeed, and so changed that she would never have taken it for a lamp but for the shape! No, it wasn't the lamp anymore. Everything that made it a lamp was gone, namely, the bright shining of it. Then it must be the shine, the light, that had gone out! That must be what Karst had meant, and it must be somewhere in that other place in the wall! She started afresh after it and groped her way to the curtain.

Now she had never before in her life tried to get out, and she didn't know what to do. She instinctively began to move her hands along one of the walls behind the curtain, half expecting them to vanish into the wall as she suspected Menardi and Karst did. But the wall repelled her with inexorable hardness, and she turned to the one opposite. As she was doing so, she stepped on an ivory die, and it met sharply with the same spot the alabaster had hurt. She fell forward against the wall. Something gave way, and she tumbled out of the cavern.

A/N: Oooh! Suspense! Anyway, I'm sorry for taking so long to update. I kinda got sidetracked. I'm hoping to start updating again regularly, though. Anyway, please review! Thanks.

Pyro1588  
Planet Weyard

07.26.05  
1:21 PM  
1054 words 


	9. IX: Out

The History of Isaac and Mia

A/N: Yes! I finally updated Planet Weyard! It now has all my published fics but Jupiter Aerie, and a fully-functional counter system as well. Go check it out!  
Forgotten~Soul: "Update soon." Sorry =( I was bad. Oh well, here's another long one for ya.  
YellowFairy07001: The horse is fine now. Thanks for asking =) Anyway, Mia's perspective is one of the things that makes this so interesting. Wait 'til you read this one!  
GoldenSunGeek: I've only seen The Holy Grail and Fawlty Towers, but I'd love to get The Flying Circus collection.  
Tyrantress: Glad ya like it!  
Sam: Yep. Remember, this is just a big experiment that Menardi is doing. What exactly is going on should be fairly obvious by now.

IX: Out

But alas! "out" was very much like "in," for the same enemy, the darkness, was here also. The next moment, however, a blessing came-a firefly, which had wandered in from the garden. Mia saw the tiny spark off in the distance. With its slow, pulsing ebb and throb of light, it pushed itself through the air, coming nearer and nearer, with a motion that more resembled swimming than flying. As Mia stared, it seemed like the light was its own source of motion.

"My lamp! My lamp!" cried Mia. "It is the shiningness of my lamp, which the cruel darkness drove out. My good lamp has been waiting for me here all the time! It knew I would come after it, and waited to take me with it."

She followed the firefly, who, like her, was trying to find its way out. Even if it didn't know the way out, it was light, and because all light is one, any light can always serve as a guide to other light. If she was mistaken in thinking it was the spirit of her lamp, it was of the same spirit as her lamp-and it had wings. The gold-green jet-boat, driven by light, went throbbing before her through the long narrow hallway. Suddenly it flew higher, and at the same time Mia tripped and fell onto an ascending stair. She had never seen steps before and found going-up to be a curious sensation. Just as she reached what seemed to be the top, the firefly stopped glowing. She was in utter darkness again. But when we are following the light, even its extinction can be a guide. If the firefly had kept shining, Mia would have seen the stair turn and would have followed it up to Menardi's bedroom. As it was, she felt around in front of her and found a latched door. After a good deal of trying, she managed to get it open--and stood in a maze of wondering perplexity, awe, and delight.

What was it? Was it outside of her, or something taking place in her head? Before her was a very long and very narrow passage, broken up she could not tell how, and spreading out above and on all sides to an infinite height and breadth and distance-as if space itself were growing out of a trough. It was brighter than her rooms had ever been-brighter than if six alabaster lamps had been burning in them. There was a quantity of streaking and mottling around it, very different from the shapes on her walls. She was in a dream of pleasant perplexity, of delightful bewilderment. She couldn't tell whether she was on her feet or drifting around like the firefly, driven by the pulses of inward bliss.

But she knew very little as yet of her inheritance, this world that she had never seen. Unconsciously, she took one step forward from the threshold, and the girl who had been from her very birth a troglodyte (cave dweller,) stood in the ravishing glory of a southern night, lit by a perfect moon-not the moon of our northern climate, but rather a moon like silver glowing in a furnace. It was a moon one could see to be a globe-not very far off, a mere flat disc on the face of the blue, but hanging down halfway, and looking as if one could see all round it by a mere bending of the neck.

"It is my lamp!" she said, and stood awestruck with parted lips. She looked and felt as if she had been standing there in silent ecstasy from the very beginning.

"No, it is not my lamp," she said after awhile; "it is the mother of all the lamps."

And with that she fell to her knees, and spread out her hands to the moon. She could not in the least have told what was in her mind, but the action was really just a begging of the moon to be what she was-that precise incredible splendor hung in the far-off roof, that very glory essential to the being of poor girls born and bred in caverns. It was a resurrection-no, a birth in itself, to Mia. What the vast blue sky, studded with tiny sparks like the heads of diamond nails, could be; what the moon, looking so absolutely content with light-why, she knew less about them then you and I! But the greatest of astronomers might envy the rapture of such a first impression at the age of sixteen. Immeasurably imperfect it was, but false the impression could not be, for as she saw with the eyes made for seeing, and saw indeed what many men are too wise to see.

As she knelt there, something softly flapped her, embraced her, stroked her, fondled her. She rose to her feet, but seeing nothing, did not know what it was. It was most like a woman's breath. For she knew nothing of the air even, had never breathed the still newborn freshness of the world. Her breath had come to her only through long passages and spirals carved in the rock. Even less did she know of the air alive with motion-of that thrice-blessed thing, the wind of a summer night. It was like a spiritual wine, filling her whole being with and intoxication and exhilaration of purest joy. To breathe was a perfect existence. It seemed to her the light itself she drew into her lungs. Possessed by the power of the gorgeous night, she seemed at one and the same moment annihilated and glorified.

She was in the open passage or gallery that ran around the top of the garden walls, between the cleft battlements, but she didn't look down once to see what lay beneath. Her soul was drawn to the vault above her, with its lamp and its endless room. At last she burst into tears, and her heart was relieved, as the night itself is relieved by its lightning and rain.

And now she grew thoughtful. She must hoard this splendor! What a little ignorance her jailers had made of her! Life was a mighty bliss, and they had scraped hers to the bare bone! They must not know that she knew. She must hide her knowledge-hide it even from her own eyes, keeping it close in her heart, content to knew that she had it, even when she could not brood on its presence or feast her eyes with its glory.

She turned from the vision, therefore, with a sigh of utter bliss, and with soft quiet steps and groping hands, stole back into the darkness of the rock. What was darkness or the laziness of Time's feet to one who had seen what she had seen that night? She was lifted above all weariness-above all wrong.

When Karst entered, she uttered a cry of terror. But Mia called to her and told her not to be afraid. She told Karst how a rumbling and a shaking had come and how the lamp had fallen. Karst went and told her mistress, and within an hour a new globe hung in the place of the old one. Mia thought that it did not look so bright and clear as the former, but she made no lamentation oven the change; she was far too rich to heed it. For now, prisoner as she knew herself, her heart was full of glory and gladness; at times she had to hold herself from jumping up and going dancing and singing about the room. When she slept, instead of dull dreams, she had splendid visions. There were times, it is true, when she became restless, and impatient to look upon her riches, but then she would reason with herself, saying, "What does it matter if I sit here for ages with my poor pale lamp, when out there a lamp is burning at which ten thousand little lamps are glowing with wonder?"

She never doubted that she had looked upon the day and the sun of which she had read; and always when she read of the day and the sun, she had the night and the moon in her mind; and when she read of the night and the moon, she thought only of the cave and the lamp that hung there.

A/N: My apologies that this is so late. I had an essay to write. I had to help build a house. I had to take care of my siblings. There was an earthquake! A terrible flood!  
Okay, the first three are true, but they're all pretty lame excuses. The real reason is that I got Tom Clancy's SSN working and I haven't been able to pry myself away from it. Also, this was a long chapter and it was really hard to write. Most of this is the original wording. I kept it because there was no way to improve upon it or even keep it the same, mainly because of the wording and how her perspective is written.  
Anyway, please bear with me and keep reviewing. It won't happen again (I hope...) =(

Pyro1588  
Planet Weyard

08.05.05  
8:11 PM  
1662 words 


	10. X: The Great Lamp

The History of Isaac and Mia

A/N: Here's another Mia chapter for ya! Next time, we'll focus a little more on our other protagonist =)  
xChocolate Obsessedx: Yeah, I need to work on update times. Nice nick, by the way =)  
Insanity Team: Thanks for the review! Glad to have you on board! It's great that you're writing again.  
GoldenSunGeek: A Broadway production? That's just weird... Anyway, don't worry too much about Mia. After all, the story wouldn't have a male and female lead if they weren't meant to meet up ;-)  
YellowFairy07001: Yeah, wait till you read this chapter! Talk about weird perspective.  
DarkKatana: Yes, Holy Grail is great =) Glad to have you here. Katanas rock.

X: The Great Lamp

It was a while before Mia had another opportunity to get out. Ever since her lamp had fallen, Karst had been a little more careful and rarely left her for long. One night, though, as Mia was lying down with a headache, she heard Karst come to her and bend over her. Disinclined to talk, she laid still and didn't open her eyes. Satisfied that she was asleep, Karst walked away, moving so softly that her very caution made Mia open her eyes and watch-just in time to see her vanish, it seemed, through a picture that hung on the wall a long way from the usual place of issue.

Mia jumped up, her headache forgotten, and ran in the opposite direction. She got out into the hallway, groped her way to the stair, climbed, and reached the top of the wall. Alas! the great room was darker than the one she had just left. Why? Sorrow of sorrows! The great lamp was gone! Had its globe fallen and its light gone out upon great wings, a resplendent firefly, soaring itself to through a yet grander and lovelier room? She looked down to see if it lay anywhere, broken to pieces on the carpet below, but she could not even see the carpet.

But surely nothing very dreadful could have happened-no rumbling or shaking, for there were all the little lamps shining brighter than before, not one of them looking like anything unusual had happened. What if each of those little lamps was growing into a big lamp, and after being a big lamp for awhile, had to go out and grow a bigger lamp still-out there, beyond this "out?" Ah! here was the living thing that would not be seen, come to her again. It was bigger tonight! It gave such loving kisses, and such liquid strokings of her cheeks and forehead, gently tossing her hair, and delicately toying with it.

But then it ceased. Had it gone out? What would happen next? Instead of growing into big lamps, would all the little lamps fall one by one and go out? But then, from below, came a sweet scent, then another, and another. Ah, how delicious! But perhaps they were only passing her and were on their way out after the great lamp! Then came the music of the river. She had been too caught up in the sky to notice it the first time. What was it? Alas! alas! another sweet living thing on its way out. They were all marching slowly in long lovely file, one after another, each taking its leave of her as they passed. It must be so: here were more and more sweet sounds, following and fading! The whole of "Out" was going out again; it was all following the great lovely lamp! She would be the only poor creature left in the lonely day! Wasn't there anyone to hang up a new lamp for the old one, and keep the creatures from going? She crept back to her rock very sad. She tried to comfort herself by saying that there would at least be room out there; but as she said it, she shuddered at the thought of empty room.

The next time she managed to get out, a half-moon hung in the east: a new lam had come, she thought, and all would be well.

It would be endless to describe the phases of feeling that Mia passed through, more numerous and delicate than those of a thousand changing moons. A fresh bliss bloomed in her soul with every varying aspect of infinite nature. Before long, she began to suspect that the new moon was the old moon, going out and coming in again just like her, but also unlike her the way it wasted away and then grew again. It must be a living thing, subject like herself to caverns, and keepers, and solitudes, escaping and shining when it could.

Was the prison it was shut in like hers? Did it grow dark when the lamp left it? Where was the entrance to it? She began to look below, as well as above and around her, and noticed the tops of the trees between her and the floor. There were palms with their red-fingered hands full of fruit; eucalyptus trees with little boxes of powder-puffs; oleanders with their half-caste roses; and orange trees with their clouds of young silver stars and their aged balls of gold. Her eyes could distinguish colors that you and I could never see in the moonlight, and she could easily distinguish between them, though at first she thought they were just the shapes and colors of the great room's carpet. Now that she knew they were real creatures, she longed to be down among them, but didn't know how to get down there. She walked the whole length of the wall down to the end where it crossed the river but still couldn't find any way to go down.

Above the river she stopped and gazed in awe at the water. She knew nothing of water except what she drank and what she bathed in. As the moon shone on the dark, swift stream, singing lustily as it flowed, she had no doubt that it was alive, a rapidly moving serpent of life, going-out?-where? And then she wondered if the water brought to her in her room had been killed so that she could drink and bathe in it.

One night when she stepped out onto the wall, she found herself in the midst of a fierce, rushing wind. The trees were roaring and bending. Great dark clouds were rushing along the skies and tumbling over all the little lamps. The great lamp hadn't come out yet. All was in tumult. The wind grabbed her clothes and hair, shaking them like it would tear them from her. What could she have done to make the gentle creature so angry? Or was this another creature entirely-of the same kind, but hugely bigger, and of a very different temperament and behavior?

But the whole place was angry! Or was it that all the creatures that lived here, the wind, and the trees, and the clouds, and the river, had argued, each one with everyone else? Would the whole come to confusion and disorder? But, as she gazed wondering and disquieted, the moon, larger than Mia had ever seen her, came lifting herself over the horizon to look, broad and red, as if she, too, were swollen with anger because she had been woken from her rest by their noise, and hurried up to see what her children were doing, thus rioting in her absence, lest they should rack the whole frame of things. As she rose in the sky, the wing grew quieter and scolded less fiercely, the trees grew more still and moaned with less complaint, and the clouds hurled themselves less wildly across the sky. And almost as if she were happy that her obeyed her very presence, the moon grew smaller as she ascended the heavenly stair; her puffed cheeks sank, her complexion grew clearer, and a sweet smile spread over her countenance, as peacefully she rose and rose.

But there was treason and rebellion in her court; for, ere she reached the top of her great stairs, the clouds had assembled, forgetting their recent wars, and very still they were as they laid their heads together and conspired. Then combining, and lying silently in wait until she came near, they threw themselves upon her, and swallowed her up. Down from the roof came spots of wet, faster and faster, and they wetted the cheeks of Mia; and what could they be but the tears of the moon, crying because her children were smothering her? Mia wept too, and not knowing what to think, stole back in dismay to her room.

The next time, she came out in fear and trembling. There was the moon! She was still there, away in the west. Poor, indeed, and old, and looking dreadfully worn, as if all the wild beasts in the sky had been gnawing at her-but there she was, alive still, and able to shine!

A/N: Another nine days =((( I am so sorry about my update times, but right now I'm getting ready to head off to college and helping build a house and trying to construct a website and lots of great stuff. Heck, I'm even doing some music again. I actually recorded something yesterday.  
But I digress. Anyway, this chapter marks the halfway point in the story. I'm really pleased with it so far. Heck, we're up to 899 hits and 31 reviews =)  
I hope to finish this up soon before I get caught up in college. We'll see. Please review!

Pyro1588  
Planet Weyard (hopefully to be updated soon!)

6:39 PM  
08.14.05  
1605 words 


	11. XI: The Sunset

The History of Isaac and Mia

A/N: Well, it's about time for me to write up another chapter. Heck, I need the practice on Dvorak. Anyway, I'm heading off to college in a week, but I hope to keep up on this one, God willing.  
And about you readers: Holy crud! 1052 hits! Great going!  
GoldenSunGeek: Yeah, I'm heading off soon. What college are you going to? And yes, they'll meet. Soon =)  
DarkKatana: Thanks!  
ReadNoWrite: Thank you. Glad to have you onboard!  
xChocolate Obsessedx: Yeah, I tried to clear it up a little but I didn't really get much done.  
Malteser99: Thanks! Glad you think so.  
YellowFairy07001: Yeah, Mia's POV is fascinating. I love how well MacDonald did it. And don't worry, this one's an Isaac chapter =)

XI: The Sunset

Not knowing anything of the sunset or darkness or night or stars, Isaac spent his days hunting. He swept over the plains on a great white horse, glorying in the sun and killing the buffaloes.

One morning, Isaac was walking the grounds a little earlier than usual, before any of the servants were out. He suddenly saw a strange animal in a little hollow that the sunlight had not yet crept into. The animal saw him and sprang away, slinking southward towards the forest. Isaac gave chase. As passed the place where he had first seen it, he saw the carcass of a buffalo that the creature had half-eaten and chased it all the harder.

But with great leaps and bounds, the creature shot farther and farther ahead until it finally vanished into the forest. Isaac turned back, defeated, and saw Alex approaching as fast as his horse would carry him.

"Alex, what king of an animal was that? How he could run!"  
Alex looked him over to see that he was alright and answered, "It might have been a leopard, but judging by its speed, I'd say that it was a young lion."  
"What a coward he must be!" Isaac said.  
"Don't be too sure of that. He's one of the creatures that the sun makes uncomfortable. He'll be brave enough when the sun is down."

Alex had hardly finished his sentence when he regretted it. He waited, but Isaac made no reply. Alas! what was said was said.  
'Then,' Isaac thought to himself, 'that creature is one of the terrors of the sunset that Madame Menardi spoke of.'

Isaac hunted all day, but not with his usual spirit. He didn't ride as hard, nor did he kill a single buffalo. Alex noted with distress that Isaac took every opportunity and used every excuse he could to move south towards the forest. But all at once, as the sun was sinking in the west, he seemed to change his mind. He turned his horse around and set off galloping across the plains back towards the castle.

No one else could keep up with him, and when they returned, they found his horse in the stable. They returned to their normal activities, assuming he had went in the castle. In truth, he had really set out from the back of the castle and crossed the river a good distance away. He quickly made his way to the south and, just before sunset, reached the forest.

The sun was now level with the ground and shone straight through the twigs and leaves. He rushed into the woods, telling himself that he could not fail; he had to find that beast. But even as he entered the woods, he turned to the west. The sun was just touching the jagged edge of the horizon. "Now," he said, "we shall see"; but he said it in the face of a darkness he had not yet proved.

The moment the sun began to sink among the spikes and saw-edges of the mountains, Isaac felt a sudden fluttering in his heart. Suddenly, an inexplicable fear laid hold to him like nothing he had ever felt before. The very fear itself terrified him. As the sun sank, it rose like the shadow of the world, growing deeper and darker. He could not even think what it might be. Nothing before had ever enfeebled him like this.

When the last flaming scimitar-edge of the sun went out like a lamp, his horror seemed to blossom into madness. Like the closing lids of an eye-for there was no twilight and no moon that night-the darkness and terror rushed together and he knew them as one. He was no longer the man he knew, or rather, thought he was. He had had courage, but had not actually been courageous. Now his courage had left him and he was barely even to stand, much less stand straight, for he could not hold a single one of his joints stiff or keep it from shaking. He was just a spark of the sun, in himself nothing.

The beast was behind him, stalking him! He turned around. The wood was all dark, but he thought he could see a few places where the darkness broke into pairs of green eyes, and he couldn't even raise his bow hand from his side. In the strength of despair, he tried to rouse his courage, not to fight-he did not want that in the least bit-but to flee. Courage to flee home was all he could imagine or desire, but even that would not come.

But what he couldn't muster was ignominiously given to him. A cry in the woods, half a screech, half a growl, sent him running through the woods like a boar-wounded dog. It wasn't even Isaac that ran, but rather the fear and terror that had come alive in his legs, and he was scarcely aware that he was even running.

But as he ran, he slowly grew able to run. He gained a little courage, at least enough to be a coward. The stars gave him a little light, and over the grass he sped with nothing following him. "How fallen, how changed," from the youth who had climbed the hill as the sun went down. A mere contempt to himself, the self that contemned was a coward with the self it contemned!

There lay the shapeless black lump of a sleeping buffalo, humped upon the grass. He cut a wide circuit around it and sped on like a wind-driven shadow. The wind had arisen and was blowing behind him, adding to his terror.

He reached the top of the hill and shot down the steep descent like a falling star. Instantly the whole upper country arose behind him and pursued him! The wind came howling after him, filled with shrieks, screams, yells, roars, laughter, and chattering, as if all the animals of the forest were careening with it. Suddenly his ears were filled with a trampling rush as the thunder of the cattle's hooves followed him from every corner of the plains behind him! He fled straight for the castle, with barely enough breath to pant.

As he reached the bottom of the valley, the moon peered over its edge. She was a new terror to him. So ghostly! So ghastly! So gruesome! So knowing as she looked over the top of her garden wall on the world outside! This was the night itself! The darkness was alive-and chasing him! The horror of horrors was coming down the valley to curdle his blood and turn his brain to a cinder!

He gave a sob and ran straight for the river, where it ran between the two walls, at the bottom of the garden. He plunged in, struggled across, clambered up the opposite bank, and collapsed senseless on the grass.

A/N: Well, that was interesting, no? Guess who comes into the next chapter!  
Anyway, life is continually getting busier. I head off to freshmen orientation in a couple days, then I have a week. I'm also trying to get my new website up and running.  
On a more positive note, I finally got my laptop ordered! It's an Athlon 64 2.2ghz with 512mb ram and a 60gb harddrive. It has a Brightview widescreen monitor and an ATI Radeon XPress 200m. I can't wait for it to arrive!  
Please review and let me know what you think!

Pyro1588  
Planet Weyard

3:21 PM  
08.20.05  
1386 words 


	12. XII: The Garden

The History of Isaac and Mia

By Pyro1588

A/N: Well, school starts Monday. I may as well type up another chapter as long as I have some time here. Oh yeah! I finished my new website! Go to my profile and check out the website link!  
DarkKatana: Yeah, he doesn't take to it too well. Don't worry, his life gets better next chapter.  
xChocolate Obsessedx: Yeah, an Isaac chap vs. a Mia chap. Pretty soon the two will overlap =)  
Insanity Team: Um, yeah. I still enjoy writing it, but I'm not proud of myself for slipping at the start of the semester. Sorry.  
sam: His nights wil get a little easier soon =)  
yellowfairy07001: Yeah, Mia's reaction to day is also pretty interesting. Well, they'll get over it eventually.  
GoldenSunGeek: Heheh, I love my laptop. I've already ordered my ram upgrade. Anyway, mudshipping will happen very, ery soon. Just hang in there.  
half-demon-princess: Sorry =(

XII: The Garden

Although she took every precaution and never stayed out for long, Mia couldn't escape discovery for long. She would have been caught if not for the fact that the strange attacks Menardi suffered had become more and more frequent. Eventually the settled into an illness that kept her in bed all day.

But whether Karst was over-cautious or just suspicious, she now remembered to lock the door every time she left Mia. One night, after she left to care for her mistress, Mia ran over to the door. To her dismay, she found that when she pushed against the wall, the wall pushed back. It would not let her through, and despite her searching, she could not discover what had caused the change. Then she began to feel the pressure of her prison walls. Out of despair, she turned and groped her way to the picture that she had seen Karst disappear into once. She felt around the wall and found the spot that she needed to press. The wall yielded and let her through.

She found her self in a sort of cellar, where she could see a glimmer of light from a sky whose blue was paled by the moon. She found her way into a long passageway. She could see the moon shining in, and she quickly followed the passage. She came to a door and managed to get it open. She found herself with great joy in "the other place," not on the top of the wall, but in the garden that she had longed to enter. As noiseless as a fluffy moth, she flitted away into the cover of the trees and shrubs. Her soft bare feet were welcomed by the softest carpet of grass. As her feet touched it, she knew that it was alive, for how else could it be so sweet and friendly to her feet? A soft wind was blowing gently in the trees, flitting around here and there, like an exploring child.

She went around, dancing on the grass and watching her shadow behind her. At first she had thought it was a little black creature, following her around and mocking her. But when she realized that it was only the patch where she kept the moon away, and that every tree, no matter how great and grand, had one of these strange attendants, she soon learned not to mind it, and it became a source of amusement to her, like a kitten and its tail.

It was long before she felt at home with the trees, though. At first they seemed to disapprove of her, and then not to notice that she existed. It looked as if they were completely caught up in their own business. As she was walking around from one tree to another, marveling with awe at the murmuring mystery of their branches and leaves, she saw one a little way off that was quite different from the rest. It was white, but at the same time dark and sparkling, and it spread like a palm--a small, slender palm without much of a head; and it grew very fast and sang as it grew. But it never grew any bigger, for as fast as she could see it growing, it kept falling to pieces. When she got closer, she discovered that it was really a water tree--a tree made of water, just like the water she washed with and the water she drank--only it was alive. Yes, alive like a river, but it must be a different sort of water from the river, seeing how the one crept swiftly along the floor, and the other shot straight up, shattered and fell, swallowed itself, and rose again. She put her feet into the marble basin, which was the flower pot out of which it grew. It was full of real water, alive and cool. It was nice, for the night was hot!

But the flowers! Ah, the flowers! She was friends with them from the very first. What wonderful creatures they were!--so kind and beautiful, always sending out vivid colors and wonderful scents--red scent, and white scent, and yellow scent--all for the other creatures to smell! The creature that was invisible and everywhere took part of their scents and carried it away, but they didn't seem to mind. It was their way of talking, of showing that they were alive, and not just painted like those on the walls of her rooms and carpets.

She wandered through the large garden until she reached the river. She was unable to go any further, for in truth she was a little afraid, justly so, of the swift serpent of water that ran along so swiftly. She dropped down onto the grassy bank and dipped her feet in the water, enjoying the feeling of it pushing against her feet. For a long time she simply sat like this, and her bliss seemed complete, as she gazed at the river, and watched the broken picture of the great lamp overhead, moving up one side of the roof, to go down the other.

A/N: Okay, first off, my deepest and humblest apologies for leaving you guys hanging. I started college and suddenly I didn't have any time to write. Now that I'm on break, I'll try to get some more done. I hope I haven't lost any of you guys, though.  
Anyway, that was fun. Three guesses as to what happens in the next chapter!  
On a side note, dang, these chapters are getting long! We're a little over halfway through. Please review and let me know what you thought of it! You can also yell at me for going inactive if you want.  
P.S. Heh, I just glanced at the intro AN. It's from just before the semester started. Wow...

Pyro1588 Planet Weyard 12.26.05 1145 words 


	13. XIII: Something Quite New

The History of Isaac and Mia

A/N: Well, I'm sitting in the car with some spare time and a laptop. Time for another chapter, right?  
GoldenSunGeek: Eh, don't feel bad. It takes alot of time to write, and spare time is one of the luxuries college doesn't offer.  
Insanity Team: Heheh, if I ever leave a fic for a year without declaring dead or inactive, shoot me, k? And yes, they're finally meeting!

XIII: Something Quite New

A beautiful moth brushed across the great blue eyes of Mia. She jumped up and followed it--not as a hunter, but rather as a lover. Her heart, like every heart if only its fallen parts were cleared away, was an inexhaustible fountain of love: she loved everything she saw in this wonderful world. But as she followed and chased after the moth, she noticed something lying on the bank of the river. Not having learned to be afraid of anything, she ran over without a second thought. She was amazed by what she saw. Another girl like herself! But what a strange-looking girl! And so curiously dressed, too!

She wasn't moving. Was she dead? Mia was filled with pity as she sat down next to the other girl. She lifted Isaac's head into her lap and began stroking his face. Her soft warm hands brought him back to consciousness. He opened his black eyes, from which the fire had left, and looked up with a strange sound of half fear, half moan, half gasp. But when he saw her face, he drew a deep breath and lay still. He gazed at her, at those blue marvels above him, like a better and more beautiful sky. They seemed to side with courage and sooth his terror. At length, in a trembling, awed voice, he half-whispered "Who are you?"

"I am Mia," she answered.

"You are a creature of the darkness, and love the night," he said as his fear began to move again.

"I might be a creature of the darkness," she replied. "I'm not sure what you mean. But I don't love the night. I love the day, with all my heart; and I sleep all night long."

"How is that possible?" Isaac asked. He started to lift himself on his elbow, but dropped his head back on her lap the moment he saw the moon. "How can it be when I see your eyes there, wide awake?"

She only smiled at him and stroked his face, not understanding what he was saying. She assumed that he didn't know what he was saying either.

"Was it a dream then?" resumed Isaac, rubbing his eyes. But as his mind cleared and the memory returned, he shuddered and cried, "Oh, horrible! Horrible! To be turned all at once into a coward! A shameful, contemptible, disgraceful coward! I'm ashamed, ashamed, and so frightened! It's all so frightful!" He continued shuddering.

"What is so frightful?" asked Mia, with a smile like that of a mother to her child who has just woken from a bad dream.

"All, all," he answered. "All this darkness and the roaring."

Mia stroked his cheek, trying to calm him. "My dear," she said, "there isn't any roaring. You must be very sensitive! All you hear is the walking of the water and all the sweetest one of the creatures running around. She is invisible, and I call her Everywhere. She goes through all the other creatures and comforts them. She's amusing herself right now, and them too. She's gently shaking them, and kissing them, and blowing in their faces. Listen: do you call that roaring? You should hear her when she's angry! I don't know why, but sometimes she is, and then she does roar a little."

"It's so horribly dark!" Isaac said, his voice almost a whisper. He had listened to her, though, and agreed that there wasn't any roaring.

"Dark!" she echoed. "You should be in my room after an earthquake has killed my lamp. I don't understand. How CAN you call this dark? Let me see"  
She looked down at his face. "You have eyes, and big ones. Bigger than Madam Menardi's or Karst's--not as big as mine, I think, but I guess I've never seen mine. But then--oh yes! I know what is the matter! You can't see with them because they're so black. Darkness can't see, of course. Never mind, I will be your eyes and teach you to see"  
Isaac smiled a little at this gesture of friendship.

Mia pointed at the ground. "Look here at these lovely white things in the grass, with red sharp points all folded together into one. Oh, I love them so much! I could sit and look at them all day, the darlings!"

Isaac leaned over and looked closely at the flowers. He thought he had seen something like them before, but couldn't quite make them out. Just like Mia had never seen an open daisy, Isaac had never seen a closed one. Mia instinctively tried to turn him away from his fear, and this beautiful creature's strange and lovely talk helped more than a little to make him forget it.

"You call it dark!" she said again, as if she couldn't get rid of the sheer absurdity of the idea. "Why, I could count every blade of the green hair--I supposed it's what the books call grass--within two yards of me! And just look at the great lamp! It is brighter than usual today. I can't think why you should be frightened or call it dark!"

As she spoke to him, she kept stroking his cheeks and hair, trying to comfort him. But oh how miserable he was! And he clearly looked like it. He almost said that her great lamp was dreadful to him, looking like a witch, walking in the sleep of death, but he wasn't as ignorant as Mia, and could tell even in the moonlight that she was a woman. And while she comforted his fear, her presence made him all the more ashamed of it. Besides, he didn't know what she was like, and so he might annoy her, and then she would leave him in his misery. So he lay still, hardly daring to move. All the little life he seemed to have came from her, and if he were to move, she might move. And if she were to leave him, he knew he would weep like a child.

"How did you come here?" asked Mia, taking his face in her hands.

"Down the hill," he answered.

"Where do you sleep?" she asked.

He pointed in the direction of the house. She gave a little laugh of delight.

"When you have learned not to be frightened, you will always want to come out with me," she said.

Mia thought with herself that she would ask the girl presently, when she had come to herself a little, how she had made her escape, for she must, of course, like Mia have got out of a cave, in which Menardi and Karst had been keeping her.

"Look at the lovely colors," Mia continued, pointing to a rose bush. Poor Isaac couldn't see a single flower. "They are far more beautiful than any of the colors on your walls, aren't they? And they're also alive, and smell so sweet!"

Isaac wished she would not make him keep opening his eyes to look at things he couldn't see. Every other moment he would start and grasp ahold of her tightly, as some fresh pang of terror shot through him.

"Come, come, dear!" said Mia. "You must not go on this way. You must be a brave girl, and--"

"A girl!" shouted Isaac, and started to his feet in anger. "If you were a man, I would kill you."

"A man?" repeated Mia. "What is that? How could I be that? We're both girls, aren't we?"

Isaac shook his head. "No, I am not a girl," he answered. "Although," he added, changing his tone, "I supposed I've given you too good reason to call me one." He dropped back to the ground at her feet.

"Oh, I see!" returned Mia. "No, of course you can't be a girl! Girls are not afraid, well, not without reason. I understand now. It is because you are not a girl that you are so frightened."

Isaac twisted and writhed around on the grass. "No, it is not," he said sulkily. "It's this horrible darkness that creeps into me. It spreads all throughout me, into the very marrow of my bones. That is what makes me behave like a girl. If only the sun would rise!"

"The sun! What is it?" cried Mia, now in her turn conceiving a vague fear.

Then Isaac broke into a rhapsody, in which he tried in vain to forget his fear. "It is the soul, the life, the heart, the glory of the universe!" he said. "The worlds dance like specks of dust in his beams. The heart of man is strong and brave in his light, and when it departs his courage leaves him. It goes with the sun, and he becomes like see me now."

"Then that is not the sun?" Mia asked thoughtfully, pointing up to the moon.

"That!" cried Isaac with utter scorn. "I know nothing about THAT except that it is ugly and horrible. At best it can be only the ghost of a dead sun. Yes, that's it! That's what makes it look so frightful."

"No," said Mia, after a long, thoughtful pause. "You must be wrong there. I think the sun must be the ghost of a dead moon, and thats why he is so much more splendid like you say. Is there another big room, then? One where the sun lives in the roof?"

"I don't know what you mean," replied Isaac. "But I know you're trying to be kind. You mean well, but you shouldn't call a poor fellow in the dark a girl. If you will let me lie here, with my head in your lap, I would like to sleep. Will you watch me and take care of me?"

"Yes, that I will," answered Mia, forgetting about her own safety.

So Isaac fell asleep.

A/N: Well, that wasn't terribly different from the original, but I really wanted to preserve the flow of the original conversation. Anyway, now they've met. Please review and let me know of how you think their first meeting went! Next chapter has Isaac's one mean moment in the entire story. Oh well. I think the chapters will start getting a little shorter from here on out.  
Please review and let me know what you think!

Pyro1588 Planet Weyard

12.27.05 4:56 PM 1755 words 


	14. XIV: The Sun

The History of Isaac and Mia

A/N: Well, I find myself once again trapped in the clutches of a Chevy Suburban, doing 70 down the freeway on my way back to Tennessee =(  
So why not write another chapter?  
Insane Freak: Mushy bananas? ... Anyway, I'm glad you're still enjoying it =)  
GoldenSunGeek: Yeah, college makes it difficult. Still though, it's possible. You just have to choose which classes don't deserve the time =P ReadNoWrite: Glad to have you onboard! I'll try to finish this up ASAP.

XIV: The Sun

There sat Mia, and there lay Isaac, his head still in her lap. All through the night they lay in the heart of the great cone-shadow of Weyard, like two Pharaohs in one pyramid. Isaac slept and slept, and Mia sat there motionless, lest she should wake him and so betray him to his fear.

The moon rode high in the blue eternity, the very triumph of the glorious night. The river ran, babbling and murmuring in deep soft syllables, while the fountain kept rushing moon-ward. It would blossom momentarily to a great silvery flower, its petals forever falling like snow, but with a continuous musical clash into the bed of its exhaustion beneath.

The wind woke, ran through the trees, went back to sleep, and woke again. The daisies slept on their feet at hers, though she didn't know they were asleep. The roses seemed to be awake, for their scent filled the air all around her, but in truth they slept also, and the smell was that of their dreams. The oranges hung like golden lamps in the tree branches, and their silver flowers were the souls of their yet unembodied children. The scent of the acacia blooms filled the air like the very scent of the moon herself.

At last, not being used to the living air, and tired with sitting so still and so long, Mia grew drowsy. The air began to grow cool. It was nearing the time when she too was accustomed to sleep. Mia closed her eyes for just a moment as her head began to nod, and suddenly her eyes opened wide, for she had promised to watch.

In that moment a change had come. The moon had gotten round and was now in the west. Mia saw that her face was altered and had grown pale, as if she too was wrought with fear. It was as if from her lofty place she saw a coming terror. The light seemed to be dissolving out of her. She was going out! She was dying!

And yet, everything around her was becoming strangely clear--clearer than she had ever seen before. How was it that the moon was shedding more light when she herself had less? Ah, that was just it! Mia could see how faint she looked! Her light was abandoning her and spreading itself over the entire room. That was why she grew so thin and pale. She was giving up everything! She was melting away from the roof like a bit of sugar in water.

Mia was quickly becoming afraid, and she sought for refuge in the face on her lap. How beautiful the creature was! She didn't know what to call it; it had gotten angry when she called it a girl like Menardi called her. And, wonder upon wonder! Now, even in the cold change that was overtaking the great room, the color as of a red rose was rising in the pale cheek. What beautiful yellow hair it was that spread over her lap. What great huge breaths the creature took! And what were those curious things that it carried? Mia was sure that she had seen them in the drawings on her walls.

And so she talked to herself as the lamp grew paler and paler, and everything kept growing even more clear. What could it mean? The lamp was dying--going out into that other place the creature in her lap had spoken of, to be a sun! But why were things becoming so much more clear before it was yet a sun? That was the point. Was it because she was growing into a sun? Yes, yes! It was death approaching. Mia knew it, because she felt it coming on herself, too. What was she about to grow into? Would she be something beautiful, like the creature in her lap? Maybe. Regardless, it must be death. She could feel all her strength draining out of her, and all around it was growing so bright that she couldn't bear it! She would be blind soon? Which would come first? Blindness or death?

As the sun was rising behind her, Isaac woke up, lifted his head up from her lap, and jumped to his feet. His face was one radiant smile. His heart was full of daring--that of a hunter who will creep into the tiger's den. Mia gave a cry and covered her face with her hands, squeezing her eyes shut. She reached out blindly to Isaac, crying, "Oh, I'm so frightened! What is this? It must be death! I don't want to die yet! I love this room and the old lamp. I don't want to go to the other place! This is terrible. I want to hide. I want to get into the sweet, soft, dark hands of all the other creatures. Ah!"

"What is the matter with you, girl?" said Isaac with the unbefiting arrogance of a male who hasn't yet been taught by the other kind. He stood looking down at her over his bow. He examined the string and then continued, "There is nothing to be afraid of now, child. It is day. The sun is all but up. Look! He'll be above the brow of the hill in another moment. Goodbye, and thank you for the night's lodging. I'm off!" He looked down at her once more. "Don't be a goose. If there's ever anything I can do for you--and all that, you know!"

"Don't leave me! Oh, don't leave me!" cried Mia. "I am dying! I'm dying! I can't move. The light sucks all the strength out of me. Oh, I'm so frightened!"

But Isaac had already splashed his way across the river, holding his bow high over his head so that it wouldn't get wet. He rushed across the level plain and sprinted up the hill. Hearing no answer from him, Mia uncovered her eyes and looked up. Isaac had reached the top, and at the same moment the sunrays alighted on him. The glory of the the king of day crowded blazing upon the golden-haired youth. Radiant as the Knight of Judgment, he stood in mighty strength, a flashing shape in the midst of flame. He fitted a golden arrow to a gleaming bow. The arrow parted with a musical twang of the bowstring. Isaac let out a shout of joy and darted after it. Up shot the sun himself, and from his quiver scattered astonishment and exultation.

But poor Mia's brain was pierced through. She fell down in utter darkness. Everything around was a blazing furnace. In despair, weakness, and agony she crawled, feeling her way with doubt and difficulty but pushed onward by forced persistence, until at last she found her way back to her cell. When at last the friendly darkness of her chamber folded itself around her with its cooling and consoling arms, she threw herself on her bed and fell fast asleep.

And there she slept, a living creature in a tomb, while Isaac, relishing in the sun's glory, pursued the buffaloes on the lofty plain. Not once did he think of the one whose presence had been his refuge, her eyes and hands his guardians through the night, whom he had been so quick to abandon. He was in his glory and his pride, and the darkness and its disgrace had vanished for a time.

A/N: Well, there you have it. Isaac's worst moment. Don't worry, the story is about to get really, REALLY good. I can't wait to finish this one up for you guys =)  
Once again, thank you for the encouraging reviews. I'll try to keep writing and hopefully finish this up in a week or two. Please review and peace out.

Pyro1588 Planet Weyard

01.07.06 4:20 PM 1351 words 


	15. XV: The Coward Hero

The History of Isaac and Mia

A/N: Well, crap. I've dropped this for a good 5 months now. It's time to pick it up and hopefully finish it. I'd like to get this done before school and/or basic training start this fall. Hopefully.  
Insane: Heh, I finally got around to calling you Insane. Oh well, better late than never, I suppose. Glad you're still reading =)  
GoldenSunGeek: Well, this chapter is a little more pitiful on Isaac's part. Glad I still have people interested =)  
ReadNoWrite: Yeah, but things get better before the end. We're getting to the really good part now. I need to update, though, or it might be the best fanfiction you read this year as well. And the next year. And the year after. So yeah, back to work for me =P

XV: The Coward Hero

But no sooner had the sun reached high noon than Isaac began to remember the past night in the shadow of that which was at hand, and to remember it with shame. He had proved himself a coward, and not only to himself, but also to a girl! He was bold in the daylight when there was nothing to fear, but trembled like a beaten slave when the night arrived.

There was, no, there must be, something unfair in it! A spell had been cast on him! He had eaten or drunk something that did not agree with courage! In any case, he had been taken unprepared! How was he supposed to know what it would be like when the sun went down? It was no surprise that he should be shocked into terror when he perceived what it was; it was in its very nature terrible!

Also, one could not see where the danger was coming from. Why, you could be torn to pieces without ever getting a chance to strike a blow! He grasped at every possible excuse, as eager as a self-lover to lighten his self-contempt. That day he astonished the huntsmen and terrified them with his reckless doing. He did everything he could to prove to himself he was no coward.

But nothing eased his shame. Only one thing had hope in it: the resolve to encounter the dark in solemn earnest, now that he knew something of what it was. After all, it was nobler to meet a recognized danger than to rush headstrong into what seemed like nothing. It was nobler still to encounter a nameless horror.

He could conquer fear and wipe out disgrace together. For a marksman and swordsman like him, he said, there was but danger; there was never defeat. He knew the darkness now, and he would encounter it as calm and cool as he now felt. And again he said to himself, "We shall see."

He stood under the boughs of a great beech tree as the sun set. It gradually sank behind distant jagged mountains, casting ever-growing shadows over the forest and fields. Before it was halfway gone, he was already shaking like an autumn leaf. As the last sliver of light disappeared behind the edge of the mountains, Isaac bounded away in terror towards the valley.

His fear grew ever greater as he ran across the meadow. He felt the darkness clutching at him as he ran. He couldn't tell if the pounding he heard was a creature pursuing him or his own heart. He dashed down into the valley, fearing the unseen foes he thought he heard. He fell, rather than plunged, into the river and came to, as before, laying on a grassy bank in the garden.

But when he looked up, he didn't see the eyes of a kind girl. He saw only the stars, numerous sparks in the waste of the sunless Night. He had again dared his foe, but could not encounter that awful all-enemy. Perhaps the girl had not yet come out of the water! He would lay here and try to sleep, for he dared not move. He hoped that when he woke he would find his head resting in her lap. He would see her beautiful face with its dark blue eyes bending over him with compassion. He finally dozed off, the image of her vivid blue hair and loving smile still in his mind.

But when he awoke he found his head resting only in the grass. He sprang to his feet, his courage renewed and restored. He did not go off to the hunt that day with the reckless abandon he had had the day before. Despite his sun-glory, he did not hunt as eagerly that day. He barely ate, and for the entire day was thoughtful, almost sad. This was the second time he had been defeated and disgraced! Was his courage just the sun playing with his brain? Was he no more than a ball, tossed back and forth between light and dark? If he was, then what a contemptible creature he was.

But a third chance lay before him. If he failed a third time, then he dared not foreshadow what he must think of himself then. It was terrible enough now, but to think of it then, it was too much.

Alas, it was no better. As soon as the sun was down he fled like a legion of devils was behind him.

Seven times in all he tried to face his foe, drawing on the strength of the previous day, and seven times he failed. His failure only increased, as did his growing sense of disgrace. At length, it overwhelmed him during all the sunlit hours and joined night to night. What with misery, self-accusation, and loss of confidence, his daylight courage began to fade, and at length, from exhaustion, from getting wet and then lying outdoors all night, and from night after night being consumed by deathly fear and the shame of shame, his sleep forsook him. On the seventh morning, instead of going to the hunt, he crawled into the castle and went to bed. The great health that the witch had taken such pains over had finally yielded, and in an hour or two he was moaning and crying out in delirium.

A/N: Once again, all I can say is sorry for dropping this. I'd love to say I haven't had any spare time, but that's not true. More than anything, I lack motivation, which is sad for a story so close to ending. Well, at least I have a couple of months to wrap things up in. Hopefully I can get it done. Feel free to prod me through reviews, email, and whatever other non-evil means you can think of to remind me that I need to be writing =)

Pyro1588 Planet Weyard

05.19.06 1139 words 


	16. XVI: An Evil Nurse

The History of Isaac and Mia

A/N: Lets see if we can keep this going now that it's started again. Anywho, thanks for the feedback from everyone!  
t.z0n3: Thanks and glad to have you reading.  
GSG: It will forever be GoldenSunGeek! Anywho, chapter is now up! Now I need to get to work on the next one. It'll take a little more work.  
Insane Violet: There, best of both worlds =) Yes, Isaac ain't doing too well. Don't worry, next chapter Mia will also get to share the joy of not doing too well. In a couple chapters, though, we get the happy reunion everyone's waiting fore. Also, please leave the brownies! Take the cookies instead!  
Smiley: Yup, update time. Mia's fate will be decided in the next chapter. Thanks for reviewing =)

XVI: An Evil Nurse

Menardi was herself ill, and was the worse tempered; and besides, it is a peculiarity of witches that, what works in others to sympathy, works in them to repulsion. Also, Menardi had a poor, helpless, rudimentary spleen of a conscience left, just enough to make her uncomfortable and therefore more wicked.

So when she heard Isaac was ill, she was furious. Ill, indeed! After all she had done to saturate him with the life of the system, with the solar might itself! The boy was a wretched failure! And because he was HER failure, she was annoyed by him, began to dislike him, and eventually grew to hate him. She looked at him like a painter at a painting, or a poet at a poem, in which he has succeeded only in making an irrecoverable mess.

In the hearts of witches, love and hate lie close together and often tumble into each other. And whether it was that Isaac had spoiled her plans for Mia as well, or just that her sickness made her even more of a devil's wife, she became sick of the girl too. She hated to think of the girl living in her castle.

She was not too sick, however, to go to poor Isaac's room and torment the sick boy. She told him that she hated him like a serpent, and hissed like one as she said it. She even looked sharp in the nose and chin and flat in her forehead.

Poor Isaac thought she would kill him. He hardly dared to touch any food or drink brought to him. She ordered every ray of light shut out of his room. This at least got him a little used to the darkness, though. She would take one of his arrows and tickle him with the feathered end, and then prick him with the tip until he bled.

I cannot tell what she finally meant, but she quickly brought Isaac to the point where he was determined to escape from the castle. What he would then he would think of later. All he knew was he needed to get out. Who knew? Maybe he would find his mother somewhere beyond the forest! If it weren't for the dark patches of darkness that separated day from day, he would fear nothing!

But now as he lay helpless in the dark, ever and anon he would come dawning through it the beautiful face of the lovely creature who nursed him so sweetly on that first night. Was he never to see her again? If she was, as he had concluded, a nymph of the river, why had she not reappeared?

She could have taught him not to fear the night, for it was obvious she had no fear of it herself. But then, when the day came, she seemed frightened. Why was that when there was nothing to be afraid of then? Perhaps one so at home at night was correspondingly afraid of the light!

And then there was his selfish joy at the rising of the sun, blinding him to her condition, had made him treat her as cruelly as Menardi treated him! What an ill return for her kindness.

How sweet and dear and lovely she was! If there were wild beasts that came out only at night, why shouldn't there be girls, too, who feared the light as he feared the darkness? If only he could find her again! Oh how differently he would treat her. But alas, perhaps the sun had killed her, melted her, burned her up! No, dried her up. That was it, if she really was the nymph of the river.

A/N: Sucks to be Isaac, I guess. Eh, don't worry. They'll meet up again in a couple of chapters, and oh what an escape they'll make! Thanks again to everyone for reviewing. It really does keep me going. I must admit, though, it feels good to be writing. I'm starting to write a couple original works again and it feels nice to be creative. Anyway, thanks and greetz to everyone =)

Pyro1588 Planet Weyard

05.23.06 721 words 


End file.
